


Better than T-cogs

by Chakramancerrr



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Come Inflation, Come Marking, Conflict of Interests, Cunnilingus, Fluids, Large Cock, M/M, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, responsible substance use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 02:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11750373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chakramancerrr/pseuds/Chakramancerrr
Summary: Pharma didn't make his quota. He finds other ways to pay Tarn back.





	Better than T-cogs

"I regret to inform you that I did not meet the quota this time however, I have something else I can offer you." Pharma teased, placing the bottle of highgrade on his desk. Perhaps keeping a bottle of booze in a medical facility was a strange practice, but it strange was normal for Pharma.

"Just because I have an addiction to T-cogs does not mean I need your silly little drinks." Tarn scoffed. His optics stared back at Pharma as if to tell him that there was no use in making excuses. 

Pharma seemed to ignore Tarn's ire with wanton abandon. He poured a cube and slid it over to Tarn, then began pouring some for himself. Tarn scowled but took the cube anyway. Pharma did not wait for him to drink it before knocking back a shot. Tarn copied him and then set the cube down.

"Now that I have obliged you, don't think I have forgotten." Tarn spoke.

"I'm only a few cogs short of quota. You know Delphi is a remote place. Not as many patients as I would have hoped. Besides...there are some other things I wanted to offer you." Pharma suggested. "When was the last time you had any sort of medical exam? If you go through so many T cogs who knows what else is wearing out."

"You will find I am in excellent shape." Tarn scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Why don't you get on the medical berth then?" Pharma motioned to the corner of his office in which a medial berth sat. Usually he would take patients to an exam room, but he had secretly moved it in here according to plan.

Tarn was nobody's fool. He knew why Pharma had offered him a shot of highgrade and pushed a medical berth into his office. Still, he played along. Pharma was rather easy on the optics and it was not often that he got to indulge himself. Tarn sat upon the medical berth, in the middle so that his size would not cause it to tip over. Even though it was weighted, even the most well made medical berth would be small for a mech Tarn's size.

"Lets have a look, shall we? " Pharma asked as he approached the larger mech with a scanner in his hands.

"There is no need for that, I'd prefer if you would just look at my neck." Tarn pointed to one of the gaps between his armor plates.

It's quite a reach for Pharma, so much so that he must climb onto the medical berth to get a good look at what Tarn suggested he look at. As he makes his way up the side of the berth, Tarn notices that Pharma is struggling to find a good footing. He grasps Pharma's aft and lifts him up into his lap.

Pharma raised an eyebrow at this gesture, noting the lingering servo on his backside. His own servos seek Tarn's neck cables as he catches the hint. He starts by rubbing them to make Tarn's engine purr. Tarn's chestplate rises and falls to Pharma's touch. He seems soothed as he breathes. His servo squeezes Pharma's aft with approval.

"Enjoying yourself?" Pharma teased, his digits now beginning to explore Tarn's treads. His lips wrapping around one of the turrets on Tarn's back. The sensation of Pharma's glossa flicking over it along with the wetness of his mouth sent a shiver though him.

"Indeed I am." Tarn answers.

Pharma felt Tarn's armor shifting beneath him as the mech's large spike emerged from it's housing. Due to his size it takes him a moment longer than most. Pharma dutifully traces the tip of his glossa around the rim of the gun turret, knowing full well what it was doing to him. His spike was pressing against Pharma's aft within moments, then rubbing between his thighs. Tarn's servos begin to explore Pharma's wings, catching the mech off guard.

Pharma could feel his valve getting wetter from the teasing, he slid his panel open for Tarn. He rolls his hips to drag his wet slit across Tarn's length. He grinds down to rut his node against it's ripples to tease himself before the larger mech enters. It takes Tarn some effort to fit all of his spike inside of Pharma due to their size difference. Lucky for him Pharma is well lubricated but even so, he keens to the sensation of being stretched. Tarn's engine rumbles with satisfaction once he is completely sheathed.

Tarn starts to move as he grips Pharma's hips, holding him so that he can lift him up and frag him in his lap. Pharma holds on to Tarn's shoulders for dear life but there isn't any need. Tarn is strong enough to easily hold the seeker. Once Pharma becomes acclimated to Tarn's size he's able to relax. How he's needed this. He has spent many a cold, lonely night at Delphi with only his servos to keep himself company. Tarns spike was much more satisfying than his digits alone.

Tarn easily rises to stand and in one swift motion flips Pharma onto the medical berth. He comes to rest upon his back so that Tarn may stand at the foot of the medical berth and slide his spike deeper inside of his valve. Tarn leans forward as Pharma's legs wrap around his back, tugging him in closer as they writhe. He can feel the large spike pulsing within him. Tarn leans back as his optics drift low, with no question of the sight he's taking in.

"I love the way you look split open." Tarn rumbles. He draws his body back, nearly withdrawing his spike before ramming it back in. Pharma doesn't reply but utters a moan once his ceiling node is hit. It stung in a wonderful way, causing lubricant to dribble from his valve. Tarn inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent from Pharma's lubricant. He loses himself in finding just the right tempo to frag him. This feeling allows him to let go of much tension, including his cravings for T-cogs.

Tarn presses in deeper as he overloads, filling Pharma with his fluids. He makes a whimpering sound as his valve cycles down to absorb the transfluid within him. It was as if he were begging for all the fluids Tarn could give. After he pulls out, Tarn runs a servo over Pharma's swollen abdomen noting that it was his fluids that are making his plating bulge. 

Tarn nestles his helm between Pharma's thighs and uses his digits to tease his node. He focuses on the sounds that Pharma as making as if to strum a tune in his very breath. His long glossa pressing inside of his channel in search of Pharma's sweet lubricants.

Between the sensation of Tarn's glossa and digits, Pharma is a a writhing overloading mess. Lubricants spurt from him as he braces against the medical berth and splash onto Tarn's mask. This serves to make Tarn chuckle as he rises to stand. Rather than clean himself, he was satisfied to wear Pharma's fluids upon his mask.

"Better than Tcogs?" Pharma teased with smirk.

"It will suffice." Tarn spoke modestly. He needn't let Pharma know what he could get away with.


End file.
